The urge to turn around flared hot inside her, but she gripped the wheel tighter and fixed her stare on the road stretching ahead. She checked the rearview mirror for the tenth time in as many minutes. No tail. No black SUVs that could be the good guys or the bad.
Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen.
Unknown number.
Her stomach dropped as she reached for the device. Though her heart pounded, she kept her voice even. “Hello?”
“Opal?”
“Yes.”
“It’s your m-mom.”
“Mom?”
A scream suddenly ripped through the speaker—high, primal, curdling.
Opal’s foot slammed on the brake. The car fishtailed, tires screeching as she wrenched it onto the shoulder. Her heart jackknifed into her throat.
The scream cut off in ragged sobs.
“Mom!” The word tore past her lips.
Her mother’s voice came through, shaking and thin. “Opal—”
Another scream, long and loud and so full of pain that white spots flashed in Opal’s vision.
“He’s hurting me!”
“Mom!” Her voice cracked. “Mom, who is hurting you? Where are you?”
“He says his name is—”
The line cut off with a sickening abruptness. Then a new voice filled her ear.
One Opal recognized from the office just before the lights went out.
“Hello, Opal.”
Every inch of her skin crawled. Her breath stopped in her chest.
Cipher.
“I’ve met your mother.” His tone was almost pleasant. “And I think we should have a reunion. Don’t you?”
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel until they tingled. “If you hurt her—”
“You’ll what? Stab me again?” A dark chuckle. “You’ve got spirit. I respect that. But let’s not pretend you’re in a position to make threats.”
She forced herself to breathe. To think. “What do you want?”
“A conversation. Face-to-face.” He rattled off an address—a suburban street she didn’t recognize. “You have thirty minutes.Come alone. No FBI. No Blackout. NoSinner.” He said the name like it amused him. “Or your mother dies screaming.”
The line went dead.
Opal sat frozen, the phone screen black.
Cipher had her mom.
